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Spring is here!

Thank you all for staying with me literally through the seasons.

I couldn't ask for sweeter, kinder, more supportive readers.

You are the reason I write.

Thank you.

xo,

Minxy

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March 24, 2020

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Namjoon shook his head, trying to clear away the smug smile Jimin had given him as he left Bighit.

"Say hi for us," Jimin had smirked.

If he had to admit it to himself, he was being rather sneaky.

He texted one of the stylist noonas to see if she was free before he left.

He asked her to do his hair.

He tried to express with his hands a swept back look.

"Kind of, like, a natural look.

Not too done up like for TV or an interview... just like, what a normal guy might,

I don't know, just, nice, but not like,

I don't want her to know I had a stylist, just..."

"Okay, okay, I understand," the noona raised both hands to shush him and calm him down before he knocked the chair over.

"Just sit down, Namjoon."

He takes off his jacket as usual, so hair products don't dirty his clothes,

and then sits down as gently as possible.

She takes about 15 minutes to push his hair back and up, with some light wax and a blowdryer.

For the life of him, Namjoon couldn't figure out why he owned the same things at home but could never do it himself.

She gives him the exact slightly natural look he had asked for.

He stares into the mirror, pleased.

Almost like he could have done this himself at home, right?

"You are so talented, Noona," Namjoon says earnestly.

The stylist smiles as she waves goodbye at him, presumably to go back to whatever he had originally interrupted her from.

Namjoon looks in the mirror one last time, trying to memorize what his hair looks like

so he could try for the thousandth time to recreate it at home,

before grabbing his jacket and heading to the elevators.

It didn't take that much of an apology to his driver before they were on their way.

"Sorry, hyung, I was with the stylist-"

"I know you want to look your best," the driver smiles at him through the rear view mirror.

Namjoon sighs.

They had booked the conference room of a nearby hotel, so it was a public place and yet private enough.

As they pull up to the private side door for staff only,

his phone vibrates with the text of a manager.

Good.

Namjoon thinks he would have panicked if she had gotten there first and had to wait for him.

-

After drumming his fingers nervously on the board room table for 5 minutes,

Namjoon discovers that there's a tiny court yard attached to the room, with the room being its only entrance.

It's equally private.

He thinks it might be nicer to talk out in the open.

As long as it doesn't rain, he thinks,

as he stands in the darkness outside.

-

He has an unfair advantage as she appears.

She walks into the brightly lit board room, with the manager behind her.

Namjoon takes in her face, her hair, her calm expression.

She looks different than she did on the plane, more done up.

But so does he.

And he takes the moment to look at her as much as he wants,

because he's outside and he knows she can't see him in the contrasting darkness.

She is so calm, even when she fails to see him in the room, that Namjoon thinks she would make good friends with Yoongi.

The manager gestures to the double doors that open to the courtyard where Namjoon is,

and Namjoon instantly jerks his head away,

looking into the distance,

so as to not look like the creep he definitely had been, watching her.

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She stops her fingers from straightening her t-shirt one last time as she walks into the room.

Trust that it's fine, she tells herself.

Insecurity looks more awkward than a wrinkled shirt.

She forces her hands to relax,

gliding into the room with her chin up,

spine straight,

hands down by her hips.

But the tall figure she is expecting

is not in the room,

which makes her hesitate for a moment,

since the manager who had picked her up told her Namjoon had arrived already.

Maybe he went to the washroom,

maybe he went to get a coffee.

Just be cool.

And she is thinking she should pull out a chair and sit down,

when the guy behind her points to a set of glass doors.

There's a breeze coming through, so it must lead outside.

And she thinks maybe she sees the silhouette of someone out there.

"He's outside," the kind man who had driven her tells her.

And he pulls out the very chair she had been eyeing, to sit in it himself.

She nods like it's normal,

normal that her heart is sprinting up her throat,

normal that her hands are trembling

as she strides through the doors into the darkness.

But then the pleasant scent of grass and trees hits her,

and she really does relax slightly.

And then as her eyes adjust,

she finds the figure she was looking for.

In the middle of the small enclosure,

is him.

The sight of him stops her in her tracks.

A sprinkle of golden lights dance across her peripheral.

She takes the smallest breath, parting her lips only ever so slightly.

She could approach him slowly,

she could wait for him to notice her,

but that wouldn't be the brave, confident Aura she wanted to be.

She steps forward again.

"Hi," she forces her voice to say,

louder than comfortable,

so that it actually came out at the right volume.

He turns instantly,

a friendly smile and a dimple flashing across his face.

"Thank you for coming," he says, raising his arms slightly in welcome.

His head is tilted in the most playful way.

A few strands of his perfectly styled hair escape and barely graze his forehead.

His jacket looks expensive,

but his warm posture and his deep voice are anything but snobby.

What a gentleman.

He's charming.

Aura can't help herself,

she brushes her hair behind her ear,

self-conscious for a moment.

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Her lips lift at his description,

as he waves his hands in the air,

remorsefully describing the time he ripped open Jungkook's shirt on stage.

He hadn't wanted to talk about his career so much,

but

Namjoon thinks her smile may be the bane of him.

And as the two managers walk out into the courtyard,

Namjoon knows their short time together is already coming to an end.

The disappointment is welling up in his chest,

as they both turn to face the approaching men.

She doesn't even need them to say anything, cool as she is.

"It's time to go,"

she says simply.

"Maybe next time you could come visit me at my work...

It's interesting, I promise," he hears himself say.

Though he's already questioning whether he truly wanted her to meet the maknae line.

She pauses,

then,

"Deal."

If her hand hadn't been gloved against the cold,

Namjoon knew that as the coward he is

he would have been too afraid to take it.

If their fingers even just brushed....

His world would fall apart.

But he did now,

reaching his hand out for her.

With her skin shielded by her glove,

she gives him her hand.

He shakes her hand gently.

"Until next time. Soon, I hope,"

he says honestly.

He can't bring his usual wise crack self to say anything better than that.

He just looks at her, his mouth dry.

"Well then," she says softly, and steps back.

Namjoon forces his fingers to let go.

Her hand slips out from his.

Her hair spins in a perfect arc around her as she turns,

and without a backward glance

she walks away from him.

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"Ya! Don't text him-"

Jin leans across the sofa and smacks Jungkook's phone out of his hand.

Jungkook laughs, his eyes crescent moons as he wrestles Jin for his phone back.

"It's like, a date, you don't bother him when he's on a date!" Jin yells,

his face red as he's losing the battle against the maknae.

Jungkook presses Jin's head into the sofa, squashing his face into the cushion as Jungkook swipes his phone out of Jin's limp hand.

"Don't hurt him," Hoseok frowns, tutting.

"He's not hurt," Jungkook grins.

"I'm hurt!" Jin says.

He flails his arms in struggle, attempting to punch Jungkook anywhere

anywhere at all,

and his fist thuds against the girl sitting next to Jungkook.

Soulmate gasps, pulling her arm back.

"Ya! Don't hurt her!" Jungkook snaps.

"I didn't hurt her," Jin says.

"I'm hurt," Soulmate smiles at Jungkook.

Jungkook turns to her and bursts into a grin.

"They're teaming up against me!" Jin yells at Hoseok.

"Help!"

Hoseok leans back, shaking his head.

Jimin sighs and stands.

"They're being all lovey-dovey. Cause they're obsessed."

You would blush,

except Jungkook just shrugs.

"So?" he replies.

"Let's go, hyung."

Jimin tilts his head at Hoseok and they go,

leaving behind Jin who is squirming out from under Jungkook's arm.

"YA! Don't leave me!"

Jungkook frowns down at Jin,

as though annoyed by all the noise and struggling,

and lets go of him.

"It's not over!" Jin points back at him,

as he darts to the side.

"I will bring backup," he threatens,

as he backs out of the room.

"IT'S NOT OVER!"

"I will wait," Jungkook quips back.

You smile,

a little in love with the chaos that Bangtan was bringing into your life.

"As I was saying,"

Jungkook turns to you,

"We have to be obsessed,

to set an example for Namjoon hyung."

You shake your head.

"As though he needs an example.

Yoongi was saying he's head over heels for this girl already."

"Oh, I see," he says slowly.

"So...

Jungkook bites down on his lip,

a soft grin on his mouth.

You ignore the way your heart slams into your rib cage.

"No, Jungkook-ssi. I don't," you say stiffly,

for the sake of your dignity.

But it sounds futile even to your own ears,

and your lip is quivering under his stare.

He laughs low,

like it was the answer he was hoping for.

"Well, I can't have that, can I?" he whispers.

His long fingers reach into your hair, brushing the strands back,

gently,

as his thumb grazes your cheek.

He leans into you,

his frame blocking out the light,

the scent of him enveloping you.

"I'll have to convince you..."

he whispers against your lips.

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